Outlanders
by Jenkib
Summary: Maybe sending six teens who have never held a real sword in their hands to Nirn, to fight an ancient and powerful entity bent on conquering the world wasn't the best idea. (Sort of AU, mostly lore-consistent)
1. Prologue

Masser and Secunda shone in the night sky, coupled with the glittering stars that dotted it.

It was a quiet night for the majority of Tamriel's denizens. Most slept, but others lay awake in work or relaxation, putting the hours of the night to use. It was they, those who were awake, who saw the anomaly that would change Tamriel, Nirn, and even Mundus. Six. Six jagged shards of crystalline ice, rocketing towards the surface at breakneck speeds. If one was close enough, they could see what lay within.

Humanoid figures encased within each shard. Unconscious, and nude. Be it fate or chance, the shards landed in the nation of Skyrim, a cold and harsh land filled with hardy people and hardier creatures.

The shards crashed to surface, near a small village, well known for its trade of lumber. Riverwood, founded by an ambitious family in the hold of Whiterun. Barreling through tree after tree, waking the townspeople of the nearby village, the descent was finally complete.

The outlanders had arrived.


	2. Chapter 1: Nirn, Newcomers, Naughty Bits

**Dillon**

 **4E 201**

 **11th of Last Seed**

The last thing Dillon remembered was going to bed late at night, in a comfortable room on a comfortable bed. Now he lay on the ground staring at the night sky, where instead of a single moon glowing in the darkness, where two moons much closer, the larger a dull red, and the smaller a pale white. A mix of pain and emotion washed over him, a dull ache from head to toe.

Where was he? How did he get there? Why were there two big-ass moons orbiting dangerously close to the planet? Those were the first of his many internal questions.

He could see that he lay in a small crater, littered with chunks of crystalline icicles. He sat up from his prone position, where he could see the large trees surrounding him, some of which had been split open from the crash. The weather was cool, but not unpleasantly so. Even as he sat with his genitals for all to see.

Looking to his left, he could see other small craters, scattered about the forest. He couldn't see what lay within, but he assumed that there were other people laying on the ground, with shattered ice scattered about. _This is just great,_ he thought, _as if my weekend couldn't have gotten any worse._ Well, after he finished panicking of course.

After all, waking up in a forest stark naked wasn't exactly a good sign, and he failed to understand how he got from his bedroom to wherever the hell he was. Regardless, he was in a very bad situation. Worrying that if he wandered into the forest, he would just starve, freeze, or get eaten.

Suddenly, from the east, came a voice likely younger than him, "Look mama!" the voice said, "It's that ice I told you about!"

"Well, it's good you weren't just lying again, but I don't think we should get any closer" said another voice, an older woman.

Even if it meant danger, Dillon knew it was now or never. Get stranded or get help.

"HELP!" he screamed from the top of his lungs, which was sore for some odd reason, "PLEASE HELP!"

"He don't sound much older than me, Mama!", the young voice pleaded, "He could be hurt or something!"

He heard the sound of footsteps coming closer, until he spotted the owners of the voices. A middle-aged woman with fair skin and hair, in an old-fashioned nightgown and fur slippers, and a young boy, also with blonde hair and a pale complexion walking towards him. "Ho there, are you- BY YSMIR'S BEARD HE'S NAKED!" The woman said, reminding Dillon that he was, in fact, naked. She covered the child's eyes, hoping to prevent any scarring of the mind. He quickly covered his privates in embarrassment.

"Who are you, boy?" she asked, glaring daggers at him.

As he tried to stand up and speak, the disorientation from the crash caught up to him, and he began to fade back into unconsciousness, leaning towards the ground.

"Are you alri-"

FWUMPH


	3. Chapter 2: Meet n' Greet

**George**

 **4E 201**

 **12th of Last Seed**

 **Riverwood, Whiterun Hold**

When George's eyes opened, the first thing he saw was the straw roof of a small wooden room.

An ornate bookcase and a round table decorated the room, He was in a bed of hay with a warm fur blankets. His first questions were rather obvious. Along the lines of ' _where the hell am I'. 'how did i get here',_ and ' _why am I dressed like I'm going to the renaissance fair.'_

He was wearing a plain blue tunic and tan trousers. A bit drab, in his opinion. The first order of business was to get out this room. Simple enough, getting on his feet, he felt a chill run up his soles as his feet touched the stone floor. On the foot of the bed was a pair of fur, they were soft and warm, soothing his chilled feet.

He approached the door at the end of the room, his hand reached for the handle, but then, he heard voices. Relatively young, no older than him. He couldn't make much out, they were speaking quietly.

Best case scenario, they could answer his many, many questions, worst case, they'd kill him on sight. Unlikely, but he didn't want to rule anything out, after all, he had just woken up in a rustic medieval bedroom. Opening the door, he walked into the room, a wide hall with a tightly woven straw roof, cobblestone floor tiles, several wooden tables, and a large hearth with a roaring fire that quickly warmed him. The hall was empty, save for a burly man tending the counter on George's end, and a table with five young people eating breakfast. There was a blonde-haired boy with an athletic build, he was the most mundane of them. Alongside him were two girls, one had golden skin, pointy ears, and blonde hair of a darker shade than the boy. She was the tallest among the group. The other girl had green skin and black hair, with small tusks protruding from her lower lips. Jarring, but not as much so as the other two who George presumed were male.

One was like a humanoid cat-person, with ash grey fur, whiskers, twitchy ears, and a long spotted tail, the other was more like a lizard, akin to a raptor or a crocodile. He had mossy green scales and a rather flabby build. An interesting group to say the least.

The green-skinned girl motioned towards George, "He's awake." she said in a baritone voice. The blonde kid got up from his chair and said, "Enjoy your nap?" Before he could respond, the boy said, "Sit down, we've got a lot to talk about." George nodded, still a great deal too shocked to speak properly. He pulled out a wooden chair, sitting next to the blonde and the lizard.

"I… Wh-" George sputtered.

The tall girl with the pointed ears spoke, "To make things short; We all crash-landed in this place in giant icicles, we're on a planet called Nirn, in that a country called Skyrim, some of us got… transformed into new forms, I'm ninety percent sure that we were all humans from Earth, and now that I think about it, you're from Earth too, right?"

"Uh… yeah." he remarked sheepishly. "But why and how did we get here?"

The cat-kid butted in, "That's we've been tryin' to figure out. A buncha kids crashing on some magic world sounds like something out of a cheesy fantasy novel." His ear twitched and he spoke again, "So far, nothing comes to mind."

"Magic, like actual bonafide magic?", George asked inquisitvely.

"Yep, in fact thats how your leg isn't messed up to hell and back." Dillon added.

George noticed now that his right leg was bandaged underneath his pants. Remarkably, he hadn't even felt any pain the whole time. He spoke now, clearly, "I didn't get any of your names, mayhaps a meet and greet?"

The blonde boy blinked, "Oh right, sorry, well my name is Dillon."

"I'm Amelia." said the tusked girl.

"You can call me Jack." said the cat.

"My name is Reagan, if introductions are necessary." said the tall girl.

"Ben." said the lizard boy. George noticed that this was the first time he'd spoken.

"Well, my name's George. So are we gonna discuss the elephant in the room?", he said. "What we're going to do now that we're here?"

Dillon spoke, "That's already taken care of. The lady that heads this town, Gerdur, said she could send us off to the nearest city, as long as we work for a little while. In the city we can find a "court wizard" to see if they can send us home."

Home. It had not set in until now that George was very, very far from home with no current way to go back, he felt a sting in his heart. His family and his friends would wonder where he was. God, what if they thought he was kidnapped? Well, technically he was, by magical flying ice no less, but he had to focus on getting home, he'd see them again, just not now.

George spoke again, "So is that it? You guys are awfully calm about all this."

"We all finished panicking hours ago. We're here and we gotta deal with that." Dillon said.

"Oh, one more teeny tiny thing, we decided whoever woke up last got the worst job, so you'll be cleaning the stables."

"Ah."


	4. Chapter 3: The Smarmy Cat

**Amelia**

 **4E 201**

 **15th of Last Seed**

 **Riverwood, Whiterun Hold**

Place, raise, chop. Earn your keep. Place, raise, chop. Go to the city. Place, raise, chop. Find a wizard. Place, raise, chop. Have them cast some magic. Place, raise, chop. Get back home. Place, raise, chop. Back to New Mexico. Place, raise, chop. Back to Mom and Dad.

These were the thoughts that ran through Amelia's head as she continued her work at Lod's mill. Wiping sweat from her brow, she decided to take a short break before getting back to work. She sat down by the river, massaging her aching arms while she watched the water rush along.

She missed home already, and wondered what her family was thinking. That she ran off, disappeared, even kidnapped? The thought of her worried parents only worried her further.

"Done already, Tusks?", she heard a voice say. It was Jack, the grey-furred "Khajiit", one of five who had come here along with her.

"Nicknames… is that what you're doing instead of working now?" she replied.

"Hey, the chickens can only eat so much."

Jack had gotten the easiest job, as he had started a dibs system without the consent of the others. Dillon was given the job of working the bellows for the smith, Alvor. Ben sweeped the porch of each house. Reagan had to help that cranky merchant take stock for his shipments, and poor George had to clean out the stables. Now, here Jack was, eating an apple, as if he didn't look douchey enough.

"There a reason you aren't minding your own damn business, Jack?" she sniped.

"Hey, hey, no need to get nasty… just making polite conversation."

"About?"

"Our fellow foreigners in this weird-ass place, whaddya think about em?"

Amelia thought for a moment, "Well… it feels like everyone's got something to hide, Dillon is all smiles, Bens' too damn quiet, I ain't sure if Reagan's got a resting bitch face or if she's just a straight up bitch, George tries to hard to look cool, and you, well, you're just a prick, nothin' mysterious about that."

"I have one of those faces, it's all in the smile." Jack said, as he flashed the aforementioned smile. "What about you, you got something hiding beneath the tough girl act?"

"Nothing that's your business, that's for sure." She retorted.

He stood back, stared for a moment, then smiled again, "Welp, I'll leave you to it, later Tusks!"

He said as he walked off onto the bridge back into town.

Pushing that conversation aside, she thought she had rested long enough, and needed to get back to work. She hefted her axe, and began again. Place, raise, chop. Deck that smarmy cat in his furry face. Place, raise, chop.


End file.
